


The Queen's Hand

by MysteriousMew



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Adventure, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M, Romance, please bear with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriousMew/pseuds/MysteriousMew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never did she think that her small trip to Cyrodiil would result in her death. Now, with no memory of her past and a war going on, Aislan must work together with strangers to end the schemes of the ultimate schemer himself. Can she accomplish this goal, save Tamerial and find herself?</p><p>And when she does, will she even like the person she once was?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Stand My Ground

** The Queen’s Hand **

** Prologue: **

** Stand My Ground **

The soft, but constant throbbing of her head, the hard ground underneath her back and the distant screams awoke her from her slumber. Her nose inhaled the mixture of what she could only describe as worse than skeever dung.

Groaning, she sat up as steadily as she could, ignoring the nausea swimming in her stomach and the dizziness as her body slumped forward slightly. Rubbing her eyes with one hand, her eyes surveyed what seemed to be a jail of some sort.

 _Where….where am I?_ she wondered and tried to remember how she got there but all she drew was a blank. _How did I get here? Where is here anyway?_

Cautiously, she crawled onto her hands and knees before rising from the ground. Gritting her teeth, the brunette tried to stay balanced as she waited for the room to stop spinning.

 ** _How do you feel?_** A voice whispered into her mind, concern laced through it. She tensed at the sudden intrusion into her head. As if sensing her distress, a thought projection of a hooded, elderly man appeared by the jail door.

“ _Slowly now,_ ” he cautioned gently, watching as she narrowed her eyes. “ _You’ve been through an ordeal. Take a few moments to collect yourself.”_

She swallowed, realising how parched her throat was. “Where am I? Who are you?” she asked, her fists slightly clenched at her sides. The idea of not knowing where she was…or even _who_ she was now that she thought about it, was unnerving.

“ _Like you, I am a prisoner of this place, yet so much more. I am the past and the future, both. I am despair, and hope. The tapestry we weave is a complex one. You cannot hope to see its pattern in its entirely. Not yet,”_ he answered cryptically and her eyes narrowed further.

“Quit beating around the bush. What do you want from me besides a quick chat?” she demanded and he held up a hand in surrender.

“ _You must rescue me. And I, must rescue you. You must escape from this cell, take up arms and protect yourself. Then, find Lyris Titanborn.”_

Her brows furrowed, trying to remember the name but nothing came. “Who’s Lyris Titanborn? I don’t understand—nevermind,” she muttered as his projection disappeared.

 _Escape from the cell. Sure, but with what?_ She chewed on her bottom lip as footsteps approached. Taking a step back, she waited until the owner of the footsteps appeared; an Argonian male.

“You there! We’re escaping! Let me open you cell,” he hissed, picking the lock on the cell until it clicked. Before she could even thank him, he disappeared further down the long hallway.

 _That seemed a little too easy_ , she frowned, opening the cell door and stepping out of her captivity. As more screams of terror echoed throughout the caves, a sinking feeling hit her stomach.

It was only going to get harder from there.

* * *

**Song: Stand My Ground by Within Temptation**

**Now, I was a little disappointed at the lack of fanfics for this amazing game that I've started to play and thought maybe I could contribute! This will follow along the Aldmeri Dominion quest line as well as the main story quests due to my Vestige being part of that faction. You'll find her physical description soon. I want you to find out who she is at her pace and not give you everything. Make it more interesting that way.**

**Enjoy :)**

 


	2. Chapter One: Again

** Chapter One: **

** Again **

**_Cold Harbour…_ **

Despite having lost her memory, her body seemed to retain memories of how to fight. It came to her as easy as breathing, even magic surprisingly. That had surprised her, accidentally setting someone on fire.

Crouching behind a small rock formation, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. There had been plenty of skeletal guards guarding the forge, most had been killed by fellow rioting prisoners.

 _I have to keep moving,_ the brunette reminded herself, rising to her feet and gripping her sword. Jogging through the forge, another guard spotted her and aimed its arrow.

Side-stepping the arrow, she cut its head off and burned the rest of the body.

“You’ve got more meat on your bones than most of these poor bastards,” a female voice caught her attention. She glanced over as a blonde Nord jogged towards her. “A half-elven? And I see you’ve armed yourself. Good! I hope you’ve still got some fight left in you. You’re going to need it.”

“And you are?” she asked, eyeing her warily.

“A fellow prisoner. The name’s Lyris.”

She recognized the name. “Lyris Titanborn? An old man in rags told me to find you,” she told her, watching as it dawned on the blonde’s face.

“The Prophet!” Lyris exclaimed, stepping closer. “He spoke to you? What did he say?”

“Something about fates being intertwined. The guy didn’t make a lot of sense,” the brunette answered, shaking her head.

Lyris snorted. “That sounds like the Prophet all right,” she smiled a little before her eyes hardened. “He’s a prisoner here too. It was very dangerous for him to speak to you, even for a moment. He must think you can help me.”

“ _Go with Lyris_ ,” he whispered. Judging by the lack of response from Lyris, the brunette concluded the voice came from within her mind. Talk about invasion of privacy.

“If helping you gets him out of my head, then what do I have to do?”

“Break him of, of course!” Lyris stated like it was obvious. “Believe me, I can use all the help I can get. That blind old man is the only person alive who can help us get back home. Tamriel’s a long way from here.”

Hearing this made her resolve harden. “Then let’s go. There’s already a prison break—what’s one more?” she questioned, moving towards the door. Lyris soon caught up and together they burst through the courtyard.

“With all this chaos, we can slip through undetected,” she said, noticing the number of prisoners running wild. Some were fighting back against…Daedra? Lyris shook her head. “Or not. Why not?”

“We need to blind the Sentinels first,” Lyris told her and saw the blank look. “They’re magical constructs created by Molag Bal to guide his vision in Coldharbour. The Sentinels are connected. If we destroy one, the others will be blinded. With any luck, that’ll buy us the time we need to free the Prophet.”

She gently twirled her sword. “So far, I’m good at stabbing and burning things.”

“That should be good enough,” Lyris smiled a little but her gaze hardened again. Geez, this woman didn’t know how to relax. “Be ready for anything. I doubt Molag Bal left his Sentinels unguarded.”

“Didn’t expect it to be easy,” she called over her shoulder, running down the steps. Fellow prisoners were the perfect meat shield—they got the Daedra guards to focus solely on them. Allowing she and Lyris to sneak past and head towards one of the towers.

There had been a few guards posted by the giant eye. _Had been_.

The eye narrowed in on her as the brunette stood before it. Staring at her, like it knew her. Shivers ran down her spine and she thrusts out a hand, setting it aflame. High pitched screaming echoed as the flames consumed it before falling silent.

“Quickly!” Lyris gestured and they began jogging back down the steep hill. “We must get to the Prophet’s cell while he’s blinded.

“ _The God of Brutality knows of your escape. Hurry!_ ” the Prophet urged in her head and she gritted her teeth. When she met this guy, she was going to give him reasons to not invade her mind ever again. But then of course, things never got easy for her—from what she can recall at least.

They discovered that upon destroying that eye, security was activated in the form of a barrier. Lyris was obviously displeased with this development, shaking her head with an angry sigh.

“Maybe Cadwell can help us,” Lyris said, pursing her lips.

“And that is…?”

“Cadwell is the oldest of the Soul Shriven. After years of torment, Soul Shriven usually go insane and turn feral,” Lyris explained, watching the brunette’s golden eyes glance towards the courtyard.

“Like those prisoners back there,” she said and the blonde nodded. “I’m guessing he’s different.”

“Cadwell was already insane when he left Tamriel. Mad as a box of frogs, but completely harmless. You’ll see,” Lyris reassured her, heading back down the steps. She shook her head, following her despite her better judgment.

“How is a mad man going to help us?”

“Cadwell sees things as he wishes them to be. To him, Coldharbour is a wondrous place. It’s his home. And he knows it like the back of his hand,” she explained, steering them towards the left. “He’s usually down by the river.”

And there he was, sitting on a bench with a bonfire raging against the dark, cold atmosphere of Coldharbour. A few other Soul Shriven that had yet to turn feral circled him.

“—One fine day, in the middle of the night. Two dead kings got up to fight,” Cadwell spoke in a tune, strumming a lute. “Back to back, they face each other. Drew their bows and…stabbed themselves,” he broke off, noticing the two women approach. “Hello, what’s this? Two women out for a stroll, then? Lovely day for it.”

“He’s completely mad,” she spoke without thinking, shaking her head. “But you’re Cadwell, right?”

“ _Sir_ Cadwell, yes indeed. A pleasure,” his white eyes noticed Lyris standing beside her. “And fair Lyris! Good to see you, m’dear! How are you, then?”

“Fine but we could use your help. We’re trying to rescue the Prophet but the door is sealed. Do you know another way in?” Lyris asked the mad man whose face fell a little.

“Oh dear, oh dear. Well, that is inconvenient, isn’t it?” he clucked his tongue. “Tell you what—I happen to know another way in! Much more of a scenic route.”

“You’re not referring to the flower kind of scenic, aren’t you?” The brunette hoped but it was destroyed by the toothless grin Cadwell sent her.

“There are flowers—along with traps, corpses and nasty beasties filling up bits in between. Better to watch your step, hold your nose and do mind the traps. There’ll like as not be a fair dose of running and skull-bashing as well,” he warned them, pointing his finger towards the river. “Follow the river. You’ll find the door to the Undercroft at the water’s end. Once you’re inside, stick to the light and you’ll find a ladder that will take you right up to the Prophet, straightaway.”

“Thanks, Cadwell,” Lyris said as they jogged towards the river.

“Do give him my best!” Cadwell called after them.

She had been skeptic about following the words of a mad man, but it seemed they rang true. At the end of the river, hidden carefully behind some rocks was a large metal door.

“I never got your name,” Lyris suddenly spoke as they followed the lit torches along the walls. “You know mine.”

“Cause the Prophet told me,” she snapped, feeling his presence in her mind growing stronger as they got closer. “I don’t have one.”

Lyris’s brows furrowed. “What? Is it something you can’t tell me or did your parents not give you one?”

“If they did then I sure as Oblivion don’t know. I can’t remember anything,” she admitted, feeling her heart sink a little. Saying it out just further cemented what she already knew. She was no one.

“Judging by your appearance, your name could be a Nord or a High Elf sounding one. So how about…Aislan?” Lyris suggested, glancing over at her with a warm smile.

She toyed with the name in her head a few times, liking the sound of it. Heck, she might even give up her real name in favor of this one. If she ever found it, that is.

“Aislan it is,” Aislan agreed, smiling a little herself. Now she had a name, that left finding a mirror to see what she looked like. Though she highly doubts Molag Bal kept one lying around.

Cadwell’s direction had been spot on—a ladder waited at the end of the tunnel. Both women climbed it, entering a very large chamber with a man floating in the middle. Some kind of stasis field kept him caged.

“All right. Good news is, we made it here in one piece and the Prophet looks unharmed,” Lyris announced, approaching a pedestal with an old book laying on top.

“And the bad news?” Aislan asked, watching her eyes narrow.

“It’s going to be up to you to keep him safe and get him back to Tamriel. I’m not going with you,” she answered, rubbing her wrist. “There’s a trick to opening this cell. The only way for a prisoner to leave is for another living soul to take their place. I need to swap places with the Prophet.”

Aislan stared at her, seeing the conviction in the blonde woman’s eyes. She was prepared to sacrifice her freedom for this Prophet.

She sheathed her sword. “He better be worth the sacrifice,” the brunette commented, watching Lyris put her hand on the book.

“He is. He chose you for a reason. Get him to safety. I’ll be fine,” Lyris gave her a small smile but it didn’t fool her. Without another word, Aislan deactivated the two anchors, allowing Lyris to begin the transfer.

“I give myself so that the Prophet may be freed!” Lyris called, her voice echoing in the empty prison. All the brunette could do was stand and watch, seeing the Prophet standing where Lyris once stood.

He sensed her approach and turned towards her. “Thank the Divines, you are safe! There is that, at least,” he said in relief.

“Can’t say the same for Lyris,” she muttered, sparing the woman a glance. The blonde seemed to be in trance, unable to hear them.

 “Lyris sacrificed everything, that we might go free. Her sacrifice must not be in vain. I promise you, once we escape Coldharbour we will find a way to rescue her together, Vestige,” the Prophet reassured her but she flinched at the title he gave her.

“Vestige?”

“It is the name I have given you. You are but a trace of your former self. A soulless one. An empty vessel that longs to be filled,” his brows furrowed. “It is as the Scrolls foretold, but not exactly as I imagined.”

 _Ugh, fate crap,_ she frowned. “Great, but talk of Scrolls won’t get us out of here.”

“Of course,” he recovered, hobbling past the edge. “Quickly now, we must head towards the Anchor.”

Aislan spared one last glance towards Lyris before following the blind old man.

* * *

**Song: Again by Flyleaf.**

 


End file.
